I was listening to a class on how to get e-books to market quickly. It was very clever how people were finding ways to tap in to their market to be the first kid on the block with a powerful, new 7-step way to solve the pressing problem du jour.
I used to leave calls like that energized with visions of the marvelous products I would produce, but this time it just left me cold.
Robert Frost came to mind as I envisioned teems of people racing down that wide, seductive, well-travelled path while I chose the slow way, the narrow path. I’m resisting the allure of the quick buck, learn-it-today-say-you-are-an-expert-tomorrow in favor of a search for wisdom.
My husband and I were telling tales of our childhood the other night and I realized how many times I have had wild animals approach me quite close. I had a mink sit on a log not 3 feet from me just this fall, and was a mere 30 feet at best from a 10-point buck in my yard just months ago. This is not unusual.
I also realize that this happens because I know how to be slow in my life. I know how to pay attention. How to be calm, centered and present. I have been arms length, and in some cases have been able to reach out and touch raccoons, possums, skunks (no touching there), chipmunks, squirrels, and deer, just to name a few on more occassions than I can name. We are comfortable with each other.
I don’t think that animals like to hang out with rabid multitaskers. I don’t like to hang out with rabid multitaskers. The sunset could care less how quickly you got something off to market. For that matter a dying friend wouldn’t probably care about that either.
No, I choose the slow way, the way that leads to the holy moment when a mink sits next to you on a log and watches the water with you, or the buck lays down for a nap in the yard, or the 3-hour lunch with a friend who knows how to linger, or the hug that lasts for days.
Have at it, clever ones, and run while you can. As for me, I’m trading in my strategic maneuvers for heart-led steps. You can always make more money. You can’t always make more time. I’m not here to see how much I can get how quickly and to count how many easy steps I took…the easy steps don’t count. The steps that ask something of you…a real something…those are the only steps worth taking. Leave something sacred behind.